"God Almighty," Lance groaned. "Just when you think it can't get any worse. . ."
"What can't get any worse?" Lance turned to see Keith leaning in the office doorway.
"The fanfics," Lance sighed as Keith came to read over his shoulder. "Used to be we only got a bad one every now and then, but since the new series started. . . every teenaged girl with a crush on Daniel feels the urge to write about him. He's your kid, or mine, or Allura's. Hell, this fic," he tapped the screen, "has Daniel as your and Allura's love child! And if it's not that, then he's a secret prince, or has some special powers that make him the savior of the universe." Lance snorted. "Only special abilities I've seen from him are the ability to be irritating, and the ability to act without thinking."
Keith blinked. "Lance, how can you even read this stuff? The spelling. . . the grammar!"
"Don't get me started." Lance pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. "Primitive as they were, I know 21st century computers were capable of checking spelling and grammar. I can't imagine putting something out for a bunch of strangers to read without checking and rechecking that sort of thing." He sat back in his chair, propping his long legs on the desk. "But they get all bent out of shape at the least criticism. Too bad, really; I know there are some good stories out there, but nobody's going to want to wade through the bad spelling and grammar to get to them."
"Nothing we can do about it, Lance." Keith was behind Lance, strong fingers working the knots in his shoulders. "Come to bed and forget about it; we have a full day tomorrow."
Lance nodded in agreement, allowing his partner to lead him out of the room. As they walked out, he thought of the message he had just sent and grinned. Maybe, just maybe, there WAS something he could do about it.